


Waiting

by vaderina



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Newt, M/M, Worried Percival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 08:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13807509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/pseuds/vaderina
Summary: Newt is kicked in the stomach by a thestral he's trying to settle in his case. As any sensible person would he asks Percival to take him to the hospital. It's a shame that bruises are deemed a manly injury that he ought to be showing off to his friends rather than bothering the busy hospital with.





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> A perforated bowel is no joking matter! While there's nothing graphic in this fic if you are more sensitive to medical emergencies then please proceed with care.

There are some sounds which nobody should have to hear. For Percival one of those was the bitten off cry of agony and the thump of Newt falling to the ground. They’d been in the case with Percival tending to the resident creatures while Newt helped settle in a skittish thestral. It had been going so well that it never even crossed Percival’s mind that something could go wrong. So it’s only from the corner of his eyes that he saw the thestral turn and kick out like a mule catching Newt in the stomach. The ointment jar fell from Newt’s fingers as he crumpled to the floor, head smacking on the rocks on the ground. Percival couldn’t get there quick enough, he held his breath as he approached Newt, the thestral had trotted off a little way away so he could crouch next to his partner. The eerie stillness that had taken over Newt had disappeared by the time Percival was next to him, instead he was gasping for breath, an arm wrapped around his waist and tears brimmed in pain. When Percival reached to try and turn him Newt bit back another grunt of pain but tears slipped free from his lashes.

“You’re okay Newt. Take it nice and slow.” Percival reassured as he tried to help Newt. It was moments like those that he wished his magic was more inclined towards healing but emergency field medicine left a lot to be desired in such a situation.

“I think,” Newt gasped and scrunched his eyes shut, “I think we might need to go to the hospital.”

Percival nodded and offered to gather Newt up in his arms but the stubborn man refused. It took a few minutes for him to be able to stand, doubled over and short of breath but he did it. Linking an arm Percival apparated them away.

The accident and emergency department was busy. There were people sat around in various states of injury, some with elevate bleeding limbs, others with sick bowls. Gently Percival guided Newt to the desk where they were asked to fill out a form and told to sit down. Newt let out a sigh when he sat, arm still curled around his middle but not actually touching his stomach. He gave Percival a tight smile when asked how he was doing.

“I’ll be fine.”

Percival really hoped it was the truth. They sat and waited as Newt’s pale face looked more drawn by the minute. Around them people sat in varying states of misery. When a screaming woman was ushered into an examination room before Newt Percival gritted his teeth. She was out again less than 10 minutes later with a wide smile on her face. People were shown into cubicles while he and Newt waited.

Finally close to an hour later Newt’s name was called out and they slowly shuffled after the triage nurse who tutted.

“Got kicked by a thestral?” she asked. Newt nodded as he tried to catch his breath. “You are silly aren’t you? Let’s have a look at it then. A big strapping lad like you should be able to handle a bruise though.” She motioned for Newt to unbutton his shirt and when he fumbled she clicked her tongue and spelled it open.

“There we go.” She pushed on the edge of the bruise and Newt whimpered. “Oh come on now. It’s just a bruise.”

“He also hit his head when he fell, was unresponsive for 2-3 seconds.” Percival chimed in and Newt shot him a grateful look.

“You’re a little drama queen, aren’t you?” The nurse tutted and Newt looked up at her. In that moment she pushed down on the bruise again which was a blackening purple mass, the outline of the thestral’s hoof barely visible. Newt yelped and turned green.

“I’m going to throw up.” He said, back of his hand pressed to his mouth.

“Deep breaths through your nose. I’ll get you a bowl. You can do your shirt back up, it’s just a bruise you’ll no doubt be showing all your friends in a day or so.” She bustled out of the room and Newt tried to follow her instructions. By the time she came back he looked a little less green but was still hunched over as Percival stood in front of him and gently tried to do his buttons up.

“Honestly, men these days.” The nurse laughed and pushed a bowl against Newt’s lax hand. In the bowl was a potion. “This will help with the bruising. When you get home ice it for 20 minutes and that will make you feel better too. But chin up, everyone will think you were so brave going up against a vicious creature. “

Newt nodded mutely and shuffled off the bed. Percival hovered by his elbow as he wasn’t sure Newt wasn’t going to keel over then and there but somehow they managed to walk out into the corridor. The door shut behind them and Newt tried to walk on, bowl and potion in one hand. It was slow going and Newt shied away from Percival’s touch. They didn’t make it far when Newt’s palm slammed against the wall and he double up gasping. His knees gave out and Percival had to catch him and held him through the new wave of agony. Newt was so caught up in the pain he didn’t hear Percival talking to him, guiding him down to the floor. His eyes were scrunched up, tears squeezed out at the corner, teeth gritted against crying out and mouth pulled into a grimace. When the initial wave passed he was covered in sweat and panting shallow breaths.

“I’m going to ask for a second opinion.” Percival said and he scooped Newt up in his arms. The cry of pain hurt him but he wanted Newt seen again as soon as possible. Once back in the waiting room Percival found a quiet corner where he sat Newt and went to the desk. The receptionist frowned at him and looked over at Newt. Their disdain was clear even as Percival tried to explain how Newt wasn’t normally so public with his pain. That something had to be wrong for him to be here in such a  state. It was as close to pleading as Percival had ever been only to be told that they’ll have to wait their turn as everyone here was ill and wanted to be seen. The condescending reproach was more than Percival could bear and he returned to Newt with the assurance that they’ll be put back in the queue.

Once he sat down next to Newt he looked over him. His face was pale, hands fisted, dark shadows under his eyes, and breaths coming in short shallow gasps. In short he looked utterly awful. Percival offered an arm around him and it was tentatively accepted. Time passed slowly as people were called to rooms. Newt trembled against Percival and hiccupped on a stifled sob.

“Want to lie down?” Percival asked and pressed a kiss into Newt’s hair. The shaky nod he got was enough to have them gingerly shifting around until Newt lay across a few chairs, curled up as best as he could and his head in Percival’s lap.

“I’m so cold.” Newt whispered. Without a word Percival pulled his coat off and draped it over the other man who sighed into it and closed his eyes.

“No sleeping.” Percival warned and Newt hummed in reply. To keep him awake as they waited Percival stroked his hair and talked, he asked inane questions about some of the creatures. He didn’t say anything about his growing worry how Newt’s colour had faded even more, his answers were a little slurred and how despite his shivers of cold his forehead was getting too warm to touch. A look around the waiting room showed a different set of people sitting in despair.

“I feel sick.” Newt mumbled and Percival reached for the bowl they were given. The potion which had been left untouched was slipped in his pocket.

“It’s okay if you’re sick. There’s a bowl here.” Percival held the bowl near Newt’s head and looked hopefully up at the nurse who came to collect his next patient. It wasn’t them. When Newt went lax in his lap Percival worried. The gentle stokes to his cheek didn’t rouse Newt and a firm grip to his shoulder got a soft pained hum out of him but he didn’t wake.

“Newt, stay with me.” He called softly to no response. Percival had no choice, he shimmied out from under Newt but the man didn’t even stir, the soft puffs of little breaths that sounded too rapid and shallow to be enough were the only sign that he was still alive. Percival rushed to the reception again.

“I can’t rouse him. He’s passed out, he’s running a fever now and his breathing is getting erratic.” Percival tried not to panic, tried to sound calm and measured but he wasn’t sure it came across as such.

“Let’s have a look.” The receptionist deigned to get up and let Percival lead him to where Newt was lying on the chairs. While it was left unsaid the judgemental look at his feet on a chair was enough to convey just what was thought of them.

“This might seem a little cruel but it wakes even the best of fakers.” Before Percival could protest the receptionist had drawn a wand and pointed it at Newt. The spell was bright yellow and jolted Newt’s body. There was no response and as they watched Newt’s unconscious body slipped off the chairs into a limp heap. The receptionist’s eyes widened and a pigeon patronus flew from the tip of his wand. The reaction was immediate, the sound of running feet down the corridor neared and Percival stepped back as a group of healers crouched around Newt. The coat that had been covering him was pulled aside and his shirt was carelessly spelled open. The bruise had spread drastically which was the smallest of their worries. The skin under covered in the bruise was stretched taut with swelling.

“Why didn’t you tell us it was urgent?” One of the medics asked Percival, half scolding. “These are matters of life and death. You can’t play with life like this.”

Percival spluttered but the chastising was over and the healers rushed Newt away on a floating gurney. The receptionist stared after them wide eyed.

“Don’t leave it so long next time.” The receptionist said straight faced and returned to his desk. Percival wanted to scream. Instead all he could do was gather his coat and the unused sick bowl , and settle in for a long wait for any news.

**Author's Note:**

> Same old blah blah, tumblr, blah, @ladyoftheshrimp blah.


End file.
